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Towns Without Schools

September 18, 2015

"I forget the names of towns without rivers" is the opening line of a poem by Richard Hugo published in 1984, and recited by my fly fisherman son as he guided me on the Muskegon River last month.   

My son thinks about rivers, while I think about schools. And my mind quickly converted the poetic line to, "I forget the names of towns without schools." I do. And I don't think I'm alone in this sentiment.

As I drive the length and width of Michigan's two peninsulas, I pass through many towns where school buildings have been converted to other uses or, more often, sit idle, surrounded by under-used commercial areas and vacant housing. I tend to forget the names of those towns.

Schools have been the anchor to, and given identity to, small towns throughout Michigan, and to the neighborhoods of larger towns. As schools have consolidated during the past two generations, many of the towns that lost their schools have also lost their identity and much of their vitality. The school consolidation movement that stripped towns and neighborhoods of their "brand" was supposed to improve access to broader and deeper curriculum choices for students and reduce the financial costs of delivering world-class education to local classrooms. 

That's admirable. But of course, that thinking preceded the Internet which now allows students attending schools of any size in any place to receive any subject available in any other place in our state, nation or the world, and to do so without students being bused hither and yon and at much lower overhead compared to past delivery systems.

If we want to rejuvenate our state, returning schools to the center of small towns and neighborhoods will be central to our strategy. Both the technology and the teaching are available to do so in every corner of our state. It's the money spent on transporting children that's wasted; not the money on teaching those children in neighborhood facilities.

Change for Worse

November 25, 2014

I recall a toaster that was handed down from my parents when my wife and I were first married and in need of everything. It was already an antique, but it worked just fine, popping nicely browned bread with efficiency.
Some years later, we handed that toaster down to another generation; and we have missed its iconic look and quick, quality performance. No toaster we’ve had since has matched that model.
Recently we purchased a new dishwasher to replace one that was at least 25 years old. The new appliance is advertised as more energy efficient, with the features now required by the government in order to be more environmentally friendly. But the fact is, it runs twice as long and works half as well, often requiring a second wash to adequately clean the dishes.
You would think these earlier disappointments would have taught us; but even more recently we purchased a new washer and new dryer . . . energy efficient, of course . . . with all the required environmental improvements included. But again, the washer runs twice as long as the model it replaced. The dryer does too, and the clothes remain damp after repeating the maximum drying time . . . twice.
All of which proves the point that change is not always good.
People who proclaim that the world is changing and that we must change too are not always on the higher ground. Change is as often bad as it is good; and change often needs to be confronted, and thwarted.
Much of the change that has come to our homes has not improved our daily lives. Much of the change that has come to our schools has not improved the quality of education our children receive. Much of the change that has come to school sports has done much to harm and little to help educational athletics.
We must ignore the hype and point out the pitfalls of the shiny new products and promotions. Saying “No” to change is sometimes the boldest and best leadership we can provide for school-sponsored sports.